Still on the phone, Conner heard strange muffled sounds. When he heard a woman groan, he knew it was his wife and he shouted, “Zoe, what’s going on? Are you okay? Zoe? Zoe!”

The deliveryman’s hands were tight around her neck and were crushing her windpipe while she struggled to get free. For a second, he moved to one side and she kneed him hard in the groin, causing him to double over, allowing her to get away. She pushed herself up and ran towards the front door and tried to open it. Frantically turning the knob over and over, it wouldn’t open. Shit. I never called the locksmith.

From the other side of the foyer, the intruder had recovered and was on his feet, moving towards her. He grabbed Zoe from behind and dragged her into the living room. She shouted into the air hoping Conner would hear her, “Help! Conner. Help me. He’s trying to kill me.”

“Zoe, what’s happening?” yelled Conner. “Zoe!”

Before she could get out another word, the man slapped a big meaty hand over her mouth and pushed her onto the couch. This time when he jumped on top of her he made sure he had a better grip. He was heavier and stronger and she could barely move underneath him. As he squeezed her neck tighter and tighter her hand groped for something, anything, that she could use to fight him off.

With her open bag still strapped across her chest, her right hand reached deep inside the leather opening. As the man squeezed her throat, she looked up into his dark, cold eyes, unable to take in any air when her fingers found something T-shaped. On the verge of passing out, she gripped the implement in her hand knowing she’d have only one shot. With all the strength she had left in her body, she swung her right arm up, out, and down, plunging the corkscrew Sean had given her into the neck of her assailant.

The corkscrew by some miracle landed in his jugular vein. At first, the man appeared stunned and let go of her throat as he reached for his own. Within seconds, blood gushed out, running through his fingers. When he gripped the handle of the corkscrew and pulled it out, blood spurted in every direction. It hit the picture window that overlooked the park, the couch, and the marble-topped coffee table. Still choking and gasping for air, Zoe tried to get up. With one last clumsy attempt to grab her as blood poured out of his wound, he seized up and fell on top of her, knocking her backwards and causing her to smack her head on the side of the marble coffee table. Moments later, he was dead and Zoe lay unconscious in a pool of his blood.